


Aomine and Kagami Drabbles

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Drabble Posts [5]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Aomine and Kagami drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aomine and Kagami Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> More things from Tumblr, updated periodically, etc.

**Domesticity meme  
#there's gotta be SOME reason people put up with Aomine's bullshit **

“Oh thank god,” Satsuki says once she realizes that Kagamin, contrary to all expectations regarding the average college-aged male, actually knows how to cook and clean and otherwise fend for himself. “He’s _your_ problem now.” And she promptly washes her hands of making sure Dai-chan doesn’t die of scurvy or beneath an avalanche of his own dirty laundry.

Kagamin is less annoyed by this desertion of her post as Dai-chan’s keeper than she’d expected him to be, which puzzles her until she finally gives up and asks why he doesn’t seem to mind being a housewife.

He just shrugs at her. “No gag reflex,” he tells her, which. Well. Satsuki didn’t need to know that about Dai-chan, but it does go a long way towards explaining Kagamin’s willingness to tolerate Dai-chan’s foibles, doesn’t it?

 

**Domesticity meme, cont.  
#this would be that reason **

Aomine’s eyes are half-lidded and that does absolutely _nothing_ to hide the challenge in them as he gazes up at Taiga through his lashes. _Go ahead_ , they seem to say. _I dare you._ Or maybe just _You don’t have the balls to do it._

Taiga’s got plenty of self-knowledge, enough to recognize when he’s being goaded, but maybe not enough to keep himself from responding. In his defense, Aomine has raised provocation past the realm of art and somewhere into the stratosphere of natural wonders. Or something. Whatever, it’s hard to think when Aomine’s got his mouth around Taiga’s cock and is doing that thing with his tongue that makes Taiga’s eyes want to roll back in his head.

His hands fit against Aomine’s jaw like they were made for it, thumbs against the pointed corners and fingers fanned down the sides of Aomine’s throat, holding him in place. Aomine makes an interested sound around the head of Taiga’s cock, and another as Taiga rolls his hips forward, pushing deeper and hissing between his teeth as his cock disappears between Aomine’s lips. That sight alone is enough to make Taiga breathe harder, and the feel of it—hot, wet suction wrapping around him, inch by inch as he lets himself sink into Aomine’s mouth—nearly drags a groan out of him.

When he hits the back of Aomine’s throat and Aomine just swallows him down, Taiga _does_ groan at how it feels to have the grip of Aomine’s throat working around the head of him. Aomine makes another of those sounds and it _vibrates,_ right up Taiga’s cock and spine, impossible and incredible. The only reason Taiga doesn’t lose it then and there is that he knows for a damn fact that Aomine would never let him hear the end of it.

“God _damn_ ,” he breathes, looking down at Aomine with his nose pressed against Taiga’s stomach and Taiga’s hands holding him there, the dark glitter of Aomine’s eyes looking back and the shape Aomine’s mouth makes around him. Taiga has to move, he _has_ to, and does, pulling back and rocking into Aomine’s mouth, fucking it, fucking _him_ , and Aomine kneels there and _takes_ it. “God fucking _damn_ , you—”

Aomine hums again while Taiga’s buried in his throat, and that’s it, he’s done, he’s coming straight down Aomine’s throat and making frankly embarrassing noises while he does it, but he can’t help it. This orgasm hits like a sledgehammer crashing into him, hard enough that Taiga feels bruised after, practically broken, knees barely holding him up while Aomine pulls off him and blots his lips, swollen and wet, against the back of his hand. He smirks up at Taiga. “Beat _that_.”

“Watch me,” Taiga growls, tackling him down to the futon.

Anything Aomine Daiki can do, he can do better.

 

**"all grown up and doing their different thing, and Aomine misses having someone to play basketball with"  
#Aomine is a pushy bastard **

Pretty much the first thing out of Aomine's mouth when Taiga sees him again is, "About goddamn time. Are you ready to play?"

Given that Taiga has only just staggered off an eleven-hour flight from LA and through customs, no, he is not ready to play in the slightest.

Not that Aomine, arms folded across his chest, foot tapping, seems at all inclined to accept that as an answer. "Well?" he asks as Taiga rubs a hand over his face, trying to sweep away some of the travel and reminding himself that he's back in Japan, really back, and that means dealing with Aomine Daiki, pushiest sonuvabitch Taiga has ever had the dubious pleasure of knowing.

"Food," Taiga says—Aomine should have seen that much coming, surely. "Food first. And a shower." Can he have sleep, too? Christ, he doesn't have any idea what time it's supposed to be here or whether it will help him or hurt him to catch a nap. Goddamn jetlag.

"Food first, okay, but why take a shower when you're just going to get all sweaty again playing?" Aomine argues.

Because, Taiga thinks and does not say, maybe that way he can figure out some way to divert Aomine from his single-minded attempt to herd him onto the nearest basketball court. "Because I need it," he says. "That's why."

Aomine sulks an awful lot for a grownass man, but what else is new. "Food," he says, nevertheless, steering Taiga in what he devoutly hopes is transportation. "And then basketball."

"Hello," Taiga says, ignoring him. "It's nice to see you again." He changes his voice, pitching it into his best approximation of Aomine's drawl. "It's nice to see you again, too. How was your flight?" He changes back to his normal register while Aomine gives him some serious side-eye. "About the usual. Two crying babies and three hyperactive toddlers. Didn't sleep at all." He switches back to mimicking Aomine. "Gosh, really? That sounds awful. We had better get you to your hotel so you can rest."

"So I take it that you've finally lost what passes for your pathetic mind," Aomine observes. 

Taiga surrenders and flips him the bird, though it just makes the asshole grin at him. "You have an entire team," he points out. "You play basketball for a living. Why can't we wait until tomorrow to play?"

He knows the look Aomine gives him then, the pathetic look that Aomine usually uses to cadge favors out of Momoi, and even so, it still sort of works. "They're not like you," he says, all but batting his eyelashes. "They're just not."

Damn it. Taiga rubs his eyes again. "Food," he sighs. "Food and then one game. One. Game."

Aomine breaks into a bright smile. "Awesome," he says, bumping his shoulder against Taiga's. "This is gonna be great. I'm gonna trash you completely."

"You and what army?" Taiga demands immediately, forgetting some of his weariness in the face of that challenge.

"Please, you know damn well I'm two games up," Aomine scoffs. 

"Not for long, you aren't," Taiga promises him. "You're going down, and you know it."

Aomine grins at him, sharp. "Believe that when I see it."

They argue the rest of the way to the car, and all the way to the gym where Aomine trains, and it isn't until after their third game that it occurs to Taiga that, once again, Aomine has managed to get all his own way. But then, he supposes, he probably should have seen that one coming himself.


End file.
